


aphelion

by heartstone



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Dreams and Nightmares, Existential Crisis, Horror Elements, Inspired by Bloodborne, Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Horror, Other, Weirdness, Weirdness Even For Me, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24155830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartstone/pseuds/heartstone
Summary: a dark shore. black water foaming on white sand... vast are the undulating dunes, rock eroded by the primaeval rhythm of the fathomless deeps. the peaks of the waves shine like daggers hissing into the obsidian valleys of their sheaths. salt spreads its geometric webs across the featureless terrain. and still the water heaves on.***the feeling of anxiety
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	aphelion

a dark shore. black water foaming on white sand... vast are the undulating dunes, rock eroded by the primaeval rhythm of the fathomless deeps. the peaks of the waves shine like daggers hissing into the obsidian valleys of their sheaths. salt spreads its geometric webs across the featureless terrain. and still the water heaves on.

the stars are thin and weak like needles. they blink and shudder their last light one by one before their pin-pricks are absorbed into the black sky.

**_c l o s e r_ **

—a chorus of a thousand voices whispers in time with the lurching waves, under the lurching, nauseous waves. the white sand buries your knees but the grains slip by like liquid as you take a step forward.

the moon hangs impossibly low just above the imperceptible horizon: black waves against black sky. gaping, it thrust silver-spears of light from its unblemished mirrored orb, hovering, hovering over the roiling waves. there is no breeze. it is only the moon pulling back the frothy waters and pushing it away again and again and again. the salt-spray hangs like a net in the empty air.

you cannot pull away. and still you hear the call, the voice, the presence beckoning—

**_c l o s e r_ **

_the sun is an illusion,_ the voice says when the moon joins the oblivion of the stars. _the universe is dark and cold._ you take a step forward and your feet are consumed at once by the white lace of the spray that numbs your ankles, your calves, your hips. you can feel them no longer.

were the waves rising or was this you walking deeper, walking—

**_c l o s e r_ **

the crown of your head falls under the surface as you sink deeper into the... black water or black sky? you are so numb you can no longer feel your body, as if you had walked so far that you had walked outside of yourself. were those twinkling little things floating by the tired stars or the broken salt-crystals falling out of the waves? still you walk. you can do nothing but walk.

the pale glimmering motes wavered, splintered into shards of weeping white spots which bleed into the black. your steps— what you imagined them to be— fall in time with the pulses of water or of light, the waves crawling over you and through you— what you imagine as yourself as you step—

**_c l o s e r_ **

a man. what you imagine to be a man smiled in the void. galaxies spiraled in his hair, turning and dimming for their slumber as they bled their final star-dust-foam-spray onto the dark shore of his black hair and white face.

_**c l o s e r** _

his voice is clammy and cold and pushes through what you think of yourself. but the man's lips did not move. his eyes are covered by a great cloth of silk-spun shadow and small pearl-stars. the pulsing numb-hot flashes of light are struggling to breathe. you are struggling to breathe. the man's teeth are spires of salt-towers built by the careful hands of time.

 _are you prepared,_ the man asks you without talking, watches you without seeing, looking through you and within you at once.

_are you prepared to see what awaits us?_

he holds out his hand, hovering over roiling, lurching waves, reflecting light like gaping moon over an imperceptible horizon.

he is still waiting for you to take it.

***

ah, sweet child of kos, returned to the ocean.

a bottomless curse, a bottomless sea,

accepting of all that there is...

and can be.

***

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by one of the dreams I had when I took a nap after work one day, one which left me very unsettled. I decided to try and write it out and capture what I felt when I woke up.  
> The four lines at the end of the work ("ah, sweet child.../...and can be") is not mine and is a quote from the game Bloodborne. I had this in my head after I woke up as well. For some reason that quote has always stuck with me and I can't figure out why.  
> Thank you for reading my random weird ramblings.  
> ***


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